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Colors of My Soul
This is gonna be a short/collection of vignettes for Ollie's history and stuff should be pretty cool? hopefully wow still a wip. haven't actually written anything yet __NOEDITSECTION__ |-|Disclaimer= Mature content?? Yeah kinda the same stuff from Ollie's page, so I guess I should put this here. It's nothing super explicit, so don't freak out or anything ^^' |-|Colors of My Soul= From the point of view of Olivine Grey I cleared my throat politely, rolling my eyes in the blinding darkness. “Um, hello?” I tapped the microphone that I knew was in front of me, recoding every word I spoke, every breath I took, every move I made. I leaned forward in the blackness, almost bumping my snout on the mic. “Is this thing on? Yes? Ah, good, okay. Now, would it be too much to ask to have a light in here? I do say, it is very, very dark in here! And a light would be much appreciated.” I asked with my kindest, most saccharine sing-song voice I could muster. They knew I was faking it, but why not mock them anyways? Its not like it was my first time in this situation... As asked, a desk light was flicked on right beside my face, illuminating a dragon sitting across the table. We were in a small room, barely big enough for five dragons, and it was just the two of us. The dragon's scales were a very brooding grey, with crooked silver horns and his white eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. I wanted to laugh in his face, but I decided that would be a bit rude. So instead I tried being more polite. “Why, mister cop man, are you wearing sunglasses? We're inside, its not very bright in here.” I chuckled a little, jostling in my handcuffs. I felt around under the table with my tail, trying to find where he was. I felt what was probably his foot, but he quickly pulled it back. You scared, mister cop man? I thought, a devious smile crept across my lips. Well, I am one of the most infamous criminals too date; he should be. He didn't respond, but he did take his glasses off in silence, folding them up annoyingly slow and tucking them away in his shirt pocket. I rolled my eyes, flattening my ears. “Are you going to be quiet the whole time?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. There was no response. “Seriously?” I hissed, lashing my tail in irritation. Still silence. “You know, it's not very polite to just sit there. You should at least try to have a conversation. Even if you're really awkward or something, I don't care. Anything is better than just sitting here.” “...” he was just staring at me. I huffed and looked the other way, upset by his obnoxious quietness. Then a devilish thought crossed me mind, and an impish grin curled my lips. “What if I…” I tuned back to face him, showing him my handcuffed claws, glove-less and brandishing their deadly curved nails. “escape?” I asked, placing my talons on the table and standing up, raising my tail in the air. No response. He didn't even move. Or blink. I sat back down, sulking. I made a killer pouty face, glaring at him. He stared blankly at me, still. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to the microphone. “What if I said…” I started, my eyes deadlocked on his stony face. “that Missus Divine,” I looked around, knowing that somewhere in the shadowy fringes of the room there was a one sided-mirror, and Divine was watching me as I spoke. Divine was the head commissioner, and was out for my head on a stake. “is an ugly, horse-faced, pin-headed idiot who has nothing better to do than sleep with every-” I was cut off when I felt the cold metal nose of a rifle pressed against my throat, and mister cop man was holding it. I bared my teeth in a venomous smile, sticking my tongue out at him. “You wouldn't kill me. You don't have the guts.” I insulted, narrowing my eyes smugly. My tail lashed, and I felt at home. He didn't respond, but he did seem to deflate slightly. I continued, “You're just a wimpy security guard, who feels soooooo tough with his little gun at his side. 'Ooooooo, so scary'” I mocked in a high pitched voice, closing my eyes and clutching my chest. “Shut up! Don't make me kill you; I can and I will.” he finally spoke, his claw slightly quivering on the trigger. I raised an eyeridge and scoffed. “You can't kill me! Why would you arrest me, take me to interrogation, and then just kill me because I called your boss a whor-” I stopped, “You think you can kill me and just find all my money and take it? Oh my moons, please don't tell me you cop guys are that daft. Oh, and I'll bet you think this key around my neck is the key to my vault, where I keep all my money and drugs and everything?” He deflated, lowering his gun. “You cop guys make me laugh. You're a real riot, you know that right?” He stared at me, “I'll take you back to your cell now.” I laughed again, realizing how rude I had been by not covering my mouth. I excused myself. “I'm sorry. But yes, please take me to my cell. Can you tell me which one it is? And on which floor?” He stood up and roughly grabbed my arm, yanking me up. I yelped and gave him a deadly glare. “You're in the basement.” I brightened up as he dragged me towards the door. “Oh! Is Dee gonna be there? I know she's usually put in the basement too.” Oh if Dee is there it will be perfect. We can break each other out and bust out of this joint within the week. “No.” I frowned. Oh well, I've escaped prison before. What's doing it for the third time gonna do? It's always the same; these cop guys never smarten up. Lavender Magenta Crimson Cobalt Golden